


Blue Sky Beneath part 2

by TheArtOfBlossoming



Series: Blue Sky Beneath [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: AU, F/M, Minutemen, Not Canon Compliant, Not the sole survivor, Other, institute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-01-29 19:49:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12637962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtOfBlossoming/pseuds/TheArtOfBlossoming
Summary: The General is dead. The Minutemen are in mourning, the Railroad their enemy and the Brotherhood merely a tolerated shadow in the sky. Skyler Woods has taken his place to infiltrate the Institute and find Shaun. What she finds instead is an unexpected truth and an unintended truce.





	1. Island

_He looked as if he were sleeping. I'd seen more than my fair share of dead bodies. Too many of those had been loved ones. Is that what General Jonathan Woods had been to me? A loved one? Yeah, I guess he had. The head of the Minuteman family._

_Mamma Murphy had sent a letter along with Preston for me. It read,_

_'You followed Blue until the end. Now it's time to find your beginning, beyond the bright light. Family binds you, always.'_

_Cryptic as ever, I know. Piper had called him 'Blue'. Yeah, he'd been more than my General or my friend. He'd been…fatherly._

"How'd it happen? Was he injured?" MacCready was distressed, squeezing his cap in one hand whilst holding Skyler up with the other. On her other side, Sturges silently held her. Both men could feel her shaking like a leaf on the wind.

Ronnie Shaw, Doctor Carl, Lieutenant Saxon and Preston Garvey all sat around the long, oval table. The doctor, a round-faced chap who normally had a jolly demeanour, stood and addressed the three who had just entered.

"Natural causes, though it's likely the extended cryo-stasis weakened his system. A heart attack. He was barely conscious when it happened."

Preston spoke, so softly that they had to strain to hear. "He came back, gave me orders to prepare and just slept. He refused food, barely drank. We got the doc here fast as we could. I… he was just… gone."

Ronnie stood and guided the three to empty seats. "We'll give him a proper send-off, don't you worry. Would you like to see him, before…" she spoke to Skyler, her voice gentler than ever.

"Yes. Yes I would."

Ronnie nodded to Saxon, who led them down the stone stairs to the tunnels. He had been laid out in a makeshift coffin, wrapped in the old nation's flag and a new Minutemen flag. Flowers and razorgrain wreaths lay about him. She knelt and lay her fingertips on his cold cheek, silently saying goodbye then stood and nodded, striding quickly back to the stairs.

* * *

At 01:11 hours, every settlement in the Commonwealth that the General had ever been to, let off a flare into the dark night sky. What must the raiders and muties have thought, how baffled must the Brotherhood have been? The Railroad would have known why, of course, some might even have cared enough to remove whatever they wore on their heads and bow them momentarily.

Piper must not have slept once the announcement reached her as Publick Occurences carried a full and impressive obituary. Nick read it early, sat in his office. He put his hat aside and cradled his bald head in his bald, metal hand. 

Hancock spent a day locked in his room utterly, painfully, sober.

Dogmeat paced the Castle grounds, whining or flopped down at the feet of anyone who seemed as sad as he but when the burial was done, the funereal feast over and the heavy boots tromped off to their bunks, it was Preston he sought and stayed with that night and for many years after.

* * *

Life does not cease in the face of grief. Talk soon turned to the project on Spectacle Island. Discussion sprang up as to who, among a carefully selected few, would risk infiltrating the Institute. They were going to draw lots until Preston received a message from Mama Murphy. He was upset that she'd used chems, though she reassured him that it was Med-X for her pains. The Sight had come unbidden. There was only one who would succeed. She volunteered for the job anyway before Preston could breath a word of the premonition.

Skyler sat at the General's desk, sorting through notes, maps and small posessions. The door was ajar but someone knocked anyway. "Come in," she said distractedly.

It was Preston, head lowered, carrying a bundle wrapped in a faded Minutemen flag. He placed it softly on the desk in front of her. "You should have this, _Sergeant_ Woods."

Skyler looked up, surprised by the sudden promotion and then carefully unwrapped the bundle.

It was Nate's Pip-boy.

A large tear escaped and ran down her cheek. She had spent relatively little time with the man yet felt as if she'd known him nearly all her life. 

Garvey pulled up a chair and sat down. "I don't know if this means anything but….Nate told me the night before he died that Nora had been expecting."

Skyler's memory flashed, like a cinefilm, back to the moments she'd spent sat in front of Eleanora Woods' frozen remains. The deep crimson wound at her temple, the slightly larger hole in her belly. The frosted blue eyes still visible, the strong jaw and nose so similar to her own. How could they? Murderers. Vault-Tec had stolen their future but the Institute had torn Nate's family apart. They had quite literally broken his heart.

Preston went on to bring the Sergeant up to speed, how the Catacombs were now empty save for corpses and one looping, confused robot. Nate had told Preston to just leave P.A.M. and he had. The Railroad HQ was no more. Save for a few field agents and the base at Ticonderoga, Preston saw no gain in pursuing them. He thought perhaps that they might eventually be persuaded to see the value in saving the innocent, whether they be synthetic or no. Skyler made a mental note to stay wary.

The Brotherhood seemed to be doing their own thing and as long as that meant ridding the Commonwealth of Supermutants and Ferals, they could be left alone. Again, Skyler wasn't so comfortable with the idea, especially after having listened to MacCready's mini rants.

Later that day, the Minutemen gathered in the Castle courtyard. Lieutenant Saxon and Brigadier General Ronnie Shaw had organised a makeshift election to choose the new General. It was no surprise to anyone (except the clear winner) who would earn the promotion. General Garvey did not believe himself worthy but accepted graciously, nonetheless.

* * *  
Most of the Minutemen had drifted back to their home settlements. The evening was clear and quiet. Preston sat on the wall, a mug of spiced Amontillado between his gloved hands. Skyler carried her own warmed wine and sat beside him.

The sea caught the last rose-hues of the sunset and the clouds glowed pink, for a change, though a tinge of green rose up from the southwest.

"Tomorrow. I'm going in tomorrow," Skyler said, her tone low but sure.

"Very well. We'll be waiting on your word." Preston's voice wasn't as strong as usual. Maybe it was the mulled wine or the grief or the shock of new responsibility, Skyler couldn't tell which. Maybe all three. "Are you sure?" he added after a moment.

"Sure as I could ever be. I know exactly how that Interceptor works and I'd be lyin' if I said I wasn't browning my pants. I have to find Shaun, for him, for the boy's sake. Hell, Nate practically made me his guardian. 'Honorary big sister,' he said. It's my duty, General."

"Maybe I'll just hold that title for you 'til you get back, soldier."

"Much as I appreciate the compliment, Sir, I'm not leader material."

"You may not see it but I do. So did Nate." Preston took a long draught and placed his empty mug down on the concrete.

"Well, maybe in ten years or so…if that contraption over yonder don't unglue my particles!"

That actually got a laugh out of Preston. "I trust Sturges and I hear you're a quick learner."

"I trust him too. Well, I'll try not to be gone too long. Don't want the big teddy bear worrying about me."

Preston picked up on the clue. "Oh, so he trusts you too, huh? Good. Glad to hear it. He's a good guy and a loyal friend. Man deserves someone like you. He never said it directly but he's been pretty lonesome."

Skyler smiled and breathed in the clear night air as a bright shooting star flew overhead. " 'No man is an island,' huh? No. No-one can survive alone anymore anyway."

* * *  
Sturges was helping Saxon get more range on the radio tower so Skyler went looking for MacCready. She found him sat cross-legged on his rack, sewing a Minutemen patch onto his backpack.

"So, finally joined up, did you?"

RJ looked round and shrugged. "Well, I need to be someone Duncan can look up to. Spent so long pretending to be a soldier, I thought it was time to grow up, for real."

"Garvey talked you into it, didn't he?" Skyler asked as she sat down beside her friend.

"Yeah… but he only said what Nate had kept dropping not-so-subtle hints about every time we struck out together." Skyler smirked. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Yeah, you didn't help either. Fraggin' peer pressure."

"C'mon, RJ. It was the right thing to do. Inevitable. So, what rank did our new General bestow upon you?"

"Staff Sergeant. I get to train snipers and report to Ronnie for a regular ear-bashing."

She laughed. "Ronnie isn't that bad! I happen to know that you've impressed her."

"Really?"

"Yup. If she's extra hard on ya its because she cares."

"Great. Tough love, just what I don't need. Or maybe I do. I don't know anymore."

"Hey, Robert Joseph MacCready. You're one of the good guys and its about time you got all the affectionate family you can handle. Maybe a special someone, too, one day?"

"Well I hear _you_ found someone. Good for you. Sturges is a great guy."

"Sure is. Say, keep an eye on him if you can whilst I'm gone."

"You're coming back. With Shaun."

"I'll do my best. If I don't though, my little comic collection is all yours."

Mac shuffled uncomfortably, his stomach growling. "Don't start. Hey, I'm famished. Let's hit the mess an' I'll buy you a beer."

"Deal. I bet the Institute don't have booze."

_I lay in bed that night feeling a paradoxical mix of strong and fragile. Sturges lay beside me, both of us still mostly dressed, breathing steadily. His warmth comforted me, his soft solidity steadied my nerves. I'd let myself open up to him if…no, **when** I got back. _

_The thought of going from one island to another danced in my thoughts. From land surrounded by sea to what remained of C.I.T. surrounded by land. I wondered if they had children there or did they kidnap ours? Were any of them really human anymore or was it a pit of synths? I thought about Nate's promise to Virgil, as Preston had impressed upon me to remember._

_Most of all, I was thinking of the ten year old boy, trapped down there, either terrified or brainwashed, who knew? How would I tell him about his father? Maybe the answers would come when my molecules were reassembled on the other side._

_That night, I dreamt that I sat eating molerat by a makeshift fire, Nate showing me how to make a folded paper crane. His smile lingered as my eyes opened on the first day of a brave new world._


	2. Buried

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Interceptor works and Skyler finds her perspective skewed.

_When I die, I don't want to be buried. Too much of me has already been in the ground. I was yanked from my mother underground, found my new life via the Vault, went turncoat in the catacombs and was dazzled by science underground. No, raise me to the sky in flames and let me fly out to sea on the wind._

_Too much of my past was buried. Too much of our learning was buried, hoarded, twisted. Just as well I'm a Minuteman who's good with a spade. Some shit was never meant to be underground._

The voice that came over the intercom sounded shocked.

"You are an intruder here. How did you relay?" She didn't answer. There had been static for a good five minutes, whilst she cautiously looked around the chamber beyond. A blue panel of light shone across her momentarily and the speaker crackled to life again.

"Forgive me, you are not who I was expecting, but it seems that fate has intervened. Please, step into the elevator."

The door slid round, allowing her access. She stepped in, checking all around for traps but could see no sign of such. The door swung shut and she felt the tube descend.

A pregnant pause, white lights flashing by.

"Welcome to the Institute…dear sister."

* * *   
The lift moved cleanly downward and as it did so, the mature male voice carried on his measured welcoming speech. Skyler was overwhelmed. The smooth motion, the lights, the smell…or rather, the _lack_ of scent to the air. The elevator slowed to a halt, opening onto a barren hall, writhing its short distance to another, smaller lift. She entered, her ears being filled with the polished, carefully enunciated tones.

She was looking for Shaun, yes? The son of the man he had expected to step out of the relay chamber. Well this was an unexpected visit but perhaps…serendipitous?

The door opened and there stood a ten year old boy, caged in a small shiny room.

"Shaun! Shaun?" She pounded on the door controls but they seemed broken.

"Who are you? I don't know you. Father, Father!"

"Your Dad sent me, Shaun. I'm here to get you out. Can you open the door?"

"Leave me alone! Father, FATHER!" The boy sounded distraught but his face didn't quite match his tone. Neither did he make the slightest move toward the door.

She heard the same, carefully pitched voice calling the boy's name and then a string of numbers and the word 'cirrus'. To Skyler's surprise, the boy looked blank, then slumped as he stood.

* * *   
'Father' they called him. He called himself Shaun. The boy-like figure was a synth, a prototype, patterned from the DNA of this wrinkled, silver haired man. Skyler been stunned by the truth, momentarily but not at all surprised. Nate awoke briefly sixty years ago. The Institute, believing in the purity of their humanitarianism, had snatched the babe in arms to raise as their own…and harvest his near-pristine genetic material.

"The truth is, Miss Woods, that I was not the only sample retrieved that day. Although it was not found on record, our team discovered weak biosigns persisting in… ah. Perhaps more appropriate to speak of it in the vernacular. My mother, Eleanora, you see, was carrying a second child."

Skyler's mind flashed back to the image of Nate's murdered wife, frozen in the moment of her death. The messy gun wound…the tidy belly wound.

"You mean Kellogg murdered a child?"

"No, not at all. The loss of Eleanora was…unfortunate. However, we were able to retrieve the foetus."

"What good would that be to you?"

Father suppressed what might have been a triumphant grin. "You underestimate our technology. Even sixty years ago it surpassed many of the pre-war achievements. We are far beyond even that, now," he boasted, waving his hand as if to brush away applause.

"So…what happened to it?" Skyler asked, the answer rising from the depths of her intuition.

"She just asked me of her fate. Yes, my dear, you! We pulled you out of cryogenic storage twenty four years ago and successfully implanted you in a surrogate."

"Why? Why would you go to all that trouble and how did I end up growing up in the Commonwealth and not in here?"

"I fear that all this may overload you and I do not wish to cause distress. We will talk about that some other time, yes?"

She nodded, mutely as it sank in a little.

"So if we're siblings then…that means…oh. Nate _was_ my real dad. He," her breath caught in her throat, "…he died. Recently. I'm sorry, Shaun."

Somehow, he knew that Jonathan Woods had passed away. It struck Skyler that he sounded aggrieved rather than grief-stricken at the news. Perhaps it was best they never met, a thirty-something year old man with a son twice his age. Freaky. Secretly, she didn't think that Nate would have liked him at all. She herself wasn't exactly charmed. Something about him was… _cold_.

The man extolled the virtues of this hidden technological paradise in a passionate but rather measured tone. He was being very careful about what he told her, she realised. She was urged to meet the department heads, that he had use for someone of her skills. So, a test followed by a job offer. Skyler chewed it over, the holotape hidden in her bra digging into her ribs. It was certainly an opportunity.

* * *

The door to Father's suite shushed open. Skyler lightly skipped down the steps and walked out into the most beautiful manmade structure she'd ever seen. Peering through the frosted glass of the elevator didn't do justice to the midnight blue dome sprinkled evenly with synthetic stars. It struck her just how reminiscent of the good old Minuteman flag the false sky was.

The meet and greet tour was brief and to the point, the facilities available staggering. She was asked several times if she was prepared to join them, to which she answered in the positive every time.

Sergeant Skyler was no fool. Preston may not have had much personal experience of the 'bogeyman' reputation that this place had but she did. The more she spoke to the various breeds of doctor, the more she grasped in such a short time where they were going so horribly wrong. Roger Warwick had said to her recently how in this world the good always came with the bad but that also worked in reverse. What if she could be the root that cracked this buried seed open so that it could grow to nourish and shelter the good people of the Commonwealth? All she had to do was sign up.

_I always knew I was different. I mean, besides the obvious. It wasn't a rare thing to be unrelated to your parents. It was a feeling, more than a thought trapped in word-form. A knowing, like when you stare at the sun through the mist and still get that blank spot in your vision._

_I was happy just being a Minuteman. No, more than happy, it suited me down to the ground. My restless feet taking my skills to where they were needed most. Helping folks, above all. Helping folk._

_The Institute was like walking into a dream. Well, not walking, more like getting drunk at high speed and having a simultaneous migraine. I hate teleporting. That first time, that was tinged with victory and the wonder of seeing that deep blue sky beneath the Commonwealth. What I've learned since then has changed everything. Everything except my loyalty. They had no idea how deep that particular river runs. Can molerats swim?_


	3. Tested

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Working for the Institute whilst clinging to your moral compass can be a tough ride. Skyler was always a Minuteman first.

_The first time I relayed, my heart was pounding. Sturges tried to convince me that the black tube waving madly around, belching exhaust fumes, was nothing to worry about. I knew it had needed an extra bracket but got distracted by the warm drawl of his voice as we'd worked on the dish. I knew he was the one who needed the reassurance, not me but I couldn't face his way as I froze in the lightening._

_My heart pounds every time. The migraine-inducing flash, the ear-pounding explosion just before my own atoms are forced to change frequency and echo around what I thought was me before suddenly pulling me down, backwards, upside-down through inside-out and then upright again, where the sound muffles, the light fades and blurs as I'm refocussed at a different place entirely._

_The science of it blows me away. I'm thrilled and terrified simultanously. I ain't missing anything yet, though. All organs and digits still present. I just remember to not eat or drink for an hour or so beforehand, now._

_The first time I relayed from the Institute back to the Commonwealth, well. I'd like to say it was a smoother ride but it really wasn't. In fact the gizmo that Sturges built was a tad quieter._

Skyler felt the last traces of the relay crackle on her skin. The ruins of C.I.T. pulled into sharp, sunlit focus before her. Pulling wraparound goggles over her watering eyes, she opened her senses to warnings. Nothing, for now at least. She broke into a run, relishing the fresh if tainted air blowing in from the sea. 

Streets were clear, for the most part. Nate's legacy. You could always tell where he'd been. Sometimes raiders lay rotting but usually they'd been picked clean by scavvers, ferals, wild mongrels. Even the bones vanished. Skyler's Pa had sworn that mirelurks and those wretched gulls cracked and crunched them to dust. 

There was no time for picking her way through dilapidated streets so she headed straight for the riverbank and dived in. Cold, oily and bitter at the surface, the water was sweeter and cleaner a couple of feet down. She preferred swimming beneath, hidden in the undertow. It was with her this time and carried her close to the Nordhagen settlement. 

"The campfire is welcome, thanks," Skyler said to the man. He looked like he was going to say something until the boy in the driftwood fenced field started attacking a gourd with a trowel.  
"Ollie, you scoop that mess up right now and get straight to bed. That'll be your breakfast, boy, so scoop careful."

The lad's face lost its angry glow to blanche quickly as he tucked chin to chest.

"Listen, lady, you're with the Minutemen, right?"

"Sergeant Woods at your service, Mr. Nordhagen." The flames shadowed his worry lines deeper. "What's the matter?"

"My..my wife. She's been kidnapped. They want us to pay ransom but I don't have that weight in caps. Not if I sold my entire crop for a year. Those raiders down the road, the robot racers, they took her two nights ago. I called but I never thought the Minutemen would answer…"

"Yeah, well, we were down but not out and now we're gettin' up with rocket boots on." 

The image tweaked a little grin onto the man's face.

"Let me sleep until dusk, then I go and make those 'bot-betters see stars."

"Sure, hey, yes, thankyou. Please, use the raised bed."

So Skyler fell into her dreams with damp hair and sand in her boots, to the sound of a boy's muffled sobs. 

That night the boy awoke suddenly. His dad snored, empty beer bottles clinking together as the ground rippled with the force of the huge explosion from the racetrack. Soon after, two women walked across the bridge. 

"Mom? Mom! Dad, it's Mom, the Minuteman lady got her back!"

Skyler leaned over, dropping her heavy pack, smiling as she watched the family reunion sidelong. Crouching, she began sorting junk by firelight. A bottle of Nuka Cherry plonked down into the sand next to her. 

"Thankyou. Those Triggermen are sinister as hell. Raiders in suits is all they really are. Don't know how long I woulda lasted. Please, stay as long as you like." She was smiling, the fear lifting even ad the bags under her eyes darkened. Her husband held her shoulders, her son behind her, fingers entwined restlessly in hers.

"Come on, Shell, you need a full belly and a night's rest. Ma'am, we don't have much but…well. Put this to the cause. You can put our names down, too. We'll do what we can."

A plan grew in Skyler's mind as she looked up past the family to the false constellation of Libertalia, its bulk strung with an effulgent spew of yellowed bulbs. It wasn't all that far, not for the right kind of artillery. She made a radio call for backup.

After a little more sleep until dawn, a small band of men approached, toolboxes and crates in hand. Before long, a large artillery piece had been assembled next to the road and two pairs of turrets and watchtowers had been added.

The Sergeant smiled to herself, as she blew bubblegum. X6-88 had better be patient. Of course he would be. He's a synth. Bit of a mouthful, ex-six-eighty-eight. Maybe she'd call him Xeno instead. 

* * *  
He was there, standing in the lee of the boat, three or four raider corpses dotted round him. By the looks - and smell - of them he'd been waiting for at least a day but said nothing of it.

Skyler swam out again to lob the smoke grenades into position. She didn't mind getting wet as long as she didn't stay that way too long. The artillery worked a treat, dealing a heavy blow and causing a fair bit of confusion. X6 and Skyler worked fairly independently of one another as she pushed ahead, onto the main, up-ended cruiser.

She found his story. An ex-Minuteman who could have chosen better but instead fell to the rank of drunken Raiderboss. So he'd been a synth. A replacement. The one thing about the Institute she really couldn't figure out. Synth or not, he'd fallen from grace and she felt no discomfort about uttering the code that cut his puppet strings. It was only later that the parasitic paranoid fear scratched at her mind.

Who else was a replacement? Are the originals always killed? Was Art a mistake, or an experiment?

X6 and 'Gabriel' relayed away. She scavved as much as her pack would hold, saving a few choice items as gifts for the Nordhagens. The boy might be too old for the truck but he'd love the bat. He might need it someday.

* * *

Skyler wandered in through the gates of Bunker Hill like just another trader. She spotted Meg sitting on the ground, drawing a flower-patterned sniper rifle in chalk, next to a bandaged mutt.

"Hey, sweetie," Skyler said. Crouching down to look at the girl's art, she whispered, "Trouble is coming honey. Best you scoot off to your safe place right now. I mean, _right now_."

The kid was no fool. She pocketed her chalks and ran off to squeeze herself into her secret 'bunker', a hole underneath the main building that might once have been a small cellar or a drain.

The Sergeant strolled casually over to Deb, did some trading and then managed to find the floor hatch and quietly leave a few live mines nearby. She scoped the place out, then wandered off again to find the Courser waiting for her in a nearby street. She wished fervently that the Railroad had been open to negotiation but the warped image of the Institute they'd held - sadly based on some uncomfortable truths - made them stubborn to the point of fanaticism.

The blonde haired courser informed her that the situation had just escalated and now there was zero chance of a quiet 'extraction'. Guns blazing it was, then.

She pulled her helmet on, picked up her cache of weaponry and ammunition and gave the signal. 'Blondie' went the direct way whilst she sneaked around back, taking a Railroad Heavy by surprise. She took her time, letting the Courser and Synths take the brunt of the flak but just as she'd pocketed a Nuka Cherry, a loud, deep thrumming came from overhead.

"Ah fucknuke. The Brotherhood." 

So now it was a battle of three sides, with the traders stuck in the middle. Some were loyal to the Railroad, some actually informants for the Institute but they'd fight as if they weren't, anyway, to keep their caravan safe from retribution.

The great metal belly sank low over the buildings and Skyler took a chance. "Let's see how my Gauss handles a vertibird." Three shots and the thing became a flaming missile, wreaking havoc as it spun violently into the ground.

To the side gate, next. The Railroad forces had Gauss rifles too but Skyler was a better shot. She reached the hatch at a sprint, Blondie right behind. They entered the lower tunnels, mostly quiet until they opened up to a large chamber, where power armoured forces were confronting the defending heavies. A few grenades, some well-placed shots, some minor wounds taken but nothing a couple of Stimpaks couldn't handle and before she knew it she was in.

Four ordinary but subdued looking folk stood in the final room. Skyler wondered why they had escaped, wishing she had a chance to talk to them. They seemed so…human. She wasn't comfortable rattling off the codes, not for these four. The ex-Minuteman Raiderboss had built his own cage but these four…

"Say the recall codes and I will transport them back."

They whined, pleaded, pathetically. Fearfully. Under her breath, Skyler muttered 'forgive me,' and quickly put each into a standing coma. Blondie barely waited for her to step back as in a flash, they were all gone.

She loaded as much junk as she could carry and cautiously exited the cellar. A Brotherhood Knight had his back turned and stepped sideways onto a mine just as she forced a two mil into his power armour. He slumped, dead, on the counter.

The last few Railroad agents were taken care of quickly and the last thing she heard as she stole away was the sound of a little girl crying. "Sorry Meg. At least you're safe," Skyler muttered to herself. "I owe you a better life."

_Nate once remarked how little we'd changed, as a race. Maybe war is soaked so deep into our bones, like radiation sickness, that we can't escape it. Well, be that as it may, I'm going to keep trying. Preston says he likes that about me._

_I've told him about the Institute. He said it was like a garden, full of wonderful crops and flowers but some things that had been allowed to grow there were poisonous. The Minutemen, he said, were good gardners. It was our job to get them back on track, grounded and striving for peaceful progress. To work ethically, compassionately and heroically._

_There's too much 'Deacon' in some of their methods. Too much focus on results and not enough on responsibility. Too much blindness to the harm they've caused. Well, the Minutemen are back and we're not going to let them get away with kidnappings and duplications any more, not if we can help it._


	4. Empowered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skyler's work brings rewards.

_General Garvey was busy organising the growing number of recruits. My only order was to be an ambassador of sorts to the Institute, to help them as if they were just another settlement. He knew, of course, that the situation was far more complicated than that. He did insist, however that he trusted my judgement implicently and announced my rapid promotion to Major._

_The Brotherhood were stomping around as if they owned the place and although they were ridding various sites of ferals and supermutants, they might have done us the courtesy of basic introductions. No. They assumed superiority and forced it upon the Commonwealth. That's one sure way to rile up the Minutemen. Staying out of their way was no longer an option but as a volunteer civilian military, we just weren't up to going up against such a well provisioned force._

_Sometimes, you have to make friends in low places._

"A successful mission, Ma'am. These quarters have been prepared for you." The courser stood in the corridor, like a dangerous porter. Skyler had read about pre-war hotels in a fiction novel she bought off Vic the trader. Rexford had nothing on this place. 

The door shushed open and she peered inside. "Thanks X6…hey, mind if I call you Essex?"

"That is not my designation."

"No, but it's easier to say."

The courser said nothing as if trying to decide how to respond but finally declared that he was mission ready when she had need of him.

The bluish white room was spotless, making the dirty old ashtray and scattered pens stand out. She wondered who had been kicked out - or kicked the bucket - for them to give her more than rack rights in the medbay. 

The lack of windows (or for that matter, holes in the wall) made her feel a little too enclosed but when she found the shower, she stripped faster than a radscorp' pops out of its hole. The warm water was luxurious, the soap pleasantly scented, running bubbles over her curves then with a brownish tinge, swirling down into the plughole. She found shampoo and washed the last radstorm out of her blue-dyed hair. The thought of Sturges floated by and before she could restrain herself, she was daydreaming about stripping those dungarees off him and giving his chassis the once over. In the shower. With the soap. Her hand had gone south of its own volition and she was halfway through the best self-service she'd ever managed when a shrill beep sounded and the water shut off. 'Power saving mode: water ration depleted' a mechanical voice informed her.

"Oh turdbomb," she muttered and reached for the towel.

* * *

Skyler awoke from a light nap, dressed and opened the door. She jumped to find X6 still stood there. Father was waiting to see her again. 'Father'. Brother. Shaun. It still felt utterly surreal but Doctor Volkert had shown her images of Nate's, Shaun's and her DNA. She didn't see it at first but after the tenacious physician had tried a different approach, she'd understood.

Skyler had gone to see Volkert for her medical after overhearing one of the Bioscience doctors refer to Nate as 'the backup' and her as 'the reject'. Wanting to know more about her beginnings,she'd approached the mature man in the white and green coat.

"Ah yes, Miss Woods."

"It's Major now, actually."

"Is that so? Well in that case, Ma'am, let's get started, shall we?"

Skyler looked around at the open ended room. "Um…won't everone see?"

"See what? Oh, yes. Of course." The doc typed a command into his console and an opaque curtain shimmered into place around the bed. "Privacy. Better?"

"Can't they still hear through this?"

"No, no-one will see or hear. Oh, don't worry if you see a synth's arm pass through the luminous curtain. Light and sound cannot penetrate but solid objects may and unit B52's path is a little off, still. I've put several reports in about it… but I digress. Remove your clothing please."

Skyler stripped down to her pants and bra.

"All of it, please. Be reassured that this is the only time. The scanner needs to record your form unhindered."

Skyler raised an eyebrow. The doc didn't get the message.

"Turn around please, doc. Don't embarrass a lady."

"Well now, no need for embarrassment. So you fully identify as feminine?"

He turned around, missing how red Skyler's face became.

"Have you got cameras in the showers? You've trespassed my privacy!"

"What are you talking about? No, of course we don't put cameras in the bathrooms."

"Just get on with the fucking scan."

"No need for vulgarity, Major Woods. Ah, perhaps you are sensitive about your mutation."

"I'm no mutie."

"No, no, I meant, the purely natural medical baseline…ah…variation. Fascinating, in fact."

"Unless you have to live with it."

"We could perform surgery, if th.."

"Heck, no! I'm not letting any doc mutilate me. Doc Crocker tried that line too. I was born this way, I'm staying this way."

An awkward silence hung between them until Skyler asked in a muted tone, "Is that why I was referred to as the 'reject'?.

"How did you know about…nevermind. Father told me that I should answer your questions. Well, yes. We only knew, of course, when you had developed enough in utero to scan properly. Father forbade the host to rescind her duty. It was decided to perform surgery and closely monitor you when you were born but she escaped along with two synths before giving birth. She..ah…disagreed with our plans."

"So she died in the Wasteland, giving birth to me instead of letting you end me or mutilate me."

"A crass assessment but true enough, I suppose."

"Did she have a name? My surrogate?"

"Tilda Courtney. A Bioscience student doctor. A poor choice, as it turned out."

'Poor woman,' she thought to herself. Skyler took a deep, shuddering breath. "Well. Since you've dragged me through this, tell me one thing: can I ever have children?"

The doctor consulted his screen, bringing up the scan and tapped a few commands, frowning. "I'm afraid you're not equipped for, ah, either option, dear."

Was that actually a little sympathy in his voice?

"Well. Didn't think so." She pulled herself up straight. "If we're done..?"

Volkert nodded. She dressed and headed up to see Shaun.

* * *  
Their conversation was brief, to the point. She was to find Allie and discuss the details of Phase Three: power. It all revolved around power. Clean, reliable nuclear fusion. The only trouble was that the part they needed was at Mass Fusion, somewhere.

The chief engineer argued that she needed to go on the mission. Skyler hoped she could defend herself even a little. As it turned out, she wasn't half bad.

They relayed to the roof, only to find Brotherhood forces already sniffing around. Skyler, in her own unique suit of power armour, had little difficulty dealing with them. She soon found the card that gave access to the elevator but they found themselves under fire as they descended, the tubular carriage grinding to a sudden halt as some engineer interfered with the power conduit.

Allie, faceless in an environment suit, followed closely behind Skyler. They shot their way to an empty lift shaft. Skyler grabbed Allie bodily, warned her to hold on tight and stepped into the hole. A bone rattling landing found them in the sub-levels, where another functioning elevator took them down to the reactor level. Finally, space to breathe.

Skylar poked around efficiently, her scavver senses keen. Some sealed doors worried her so she left a mine in front of one, just in case and activated a Protectron to run interference. The tech they needed, the beryllium agitator, was in the highly radioactive chamber. Allie ran diagnostics whilst directing Skyler through the airlock process. 

"Looks good, still functional. It'll be at the top of the platform," she crackled through the Major's earphones.

Skyler stomped up, hit the big red button, took her prize and heard turrets springing to life. 

"Shit. Security woke up. Allie, get to cover, _now!_

Sirens blared, lights strobed and heavy security doors rumbled open. The sentry bot was surprisingly nimble in the tight space. Skyler was glad she was carrying her trusty Gauss rifle (which still needed a name) as the huge tripod of destruction thundered close. She caught a few of its bullets but managed to strike a critical hit and duck just in time to avoid most of its catastrophic death throes.

The Protectron turncoat was fighting Allie whilst a chilling, effeminate robotic voice reached Skyler's ears. Not one but two assaultrons flashed their scorching gaze, looking for the thief.  
She was under the stairs, pinned in a control room. One managed to get up close, revving its cycloptic laser to incinerate its target, so she shot the 'goldurn' thing in the eye. The second didn't get as close, losing a leg to collapse onto the floor, missing its chance by three precious seconds.

They ran the gauntlet back through Brotherhood stragglers and were torn away by a flash of lightning, back to safety.

* * * 

Skyler brushed down her cleanest clothing, fixed her hair and applied her makeup perfectly. The meeting had been called soon after their successful return and she needed to make a good impression. The Minutemen could not afford to make any more enemies, nor even allow the Institute to ignore them. They had too much to give…if only they could somehow be persuaded.

She took a seat next to Dr. Li, noticing they shared a taste in good hairstyles. Shaun began.

_He was dying and he chose me to lead them. Me! A rescued zygote, cultivated in a surrogate Institute womb. The only things we had in common were our DNA and a drive to look after 'our' people. The Institute were out to win the human race and the Minutemen just wanted to make sure folks were safe and happy._

_It was a shock but I clicked into place and found my purpose with his words. This was my chance to balance things out, to help, to really help. The Institute wouldn't ever be the same again. I wasn't about to become the bogeyman, though. No. I was the little girl waking up in the middle of the night, yelling at it to get the hell away from my family. The dark never scared me._

_Piper was angry when I told her, on the way to settle the deal I made with Virgil. It took her a while to fully grasp what it meant, to realise I wasn't betraying the Commonwealth. Truth is, I belong in both worlds and the two needed to get to know each other again. I'd make sure they'd be friends._


	5. Shaken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skyler suddenly begins to see certain people in a different light...as if a nuke just went off.

_You think you know people, then something shifts. Glowin' Hell, it can happen to your own self. Take me, for instance: I thought I was a Commonwealth Minuteman farmer's daughter. I went from Caravan Guard to Major, from regular wasteland gal to freak of science._

_They wanted to call me Director. I tried for 'Ward' or just my Minutemen rank but they insisted. What I really hate is when they call me 'Mother'. The next one to do that will get a memo pinned to their desk with a two milli tack._

It was a mediochre sort of day. A little sun, a few drops of rain, a radstorm glowering on the horizon. X6-88, or Essex, as she preferred to call him, was efficiently picking off raiders whilst Skyler snuck in through the back of the territory, headed for the brunette broad with the best kit. She must be the boss. Correction, must have _been_ the boss. The courser's laser had found its mark before his boss could finish reloading.

It was a good job Skyler had one more box of .308, as a small gaggle returned home to find their strongest on the ground with a dark figure in a swish black coat standing over her. He looked round as Skyler's VATS enhanced aim picked off the lot in quick succession.

All quiet now, she declared it clear and started the scav. It was a shame that nice black coat of his didn't have any pockets…or maybe he was just too stuck-up to stoop to carting filthy junk. Even if some of their filthy junk was rather tasty. There would be good caps for their haul this time.

X6 caught her attention. He wanted to talk. Skyler listened to how he'd doubted Father's choice to bring Nate in, then after he died suddenly, how he was no more supportive of the decision to bring Skyler to the position she now held. He managed to praise her and insult her simultaneously but when he started belittling the people of the Commonwealth, lumping the honest, hardworking settlers in with the dregs of humanity that had many gang names - Raider, Gunner, Rust Devil - mentioning nothing of the mutant green offspring of Institute insanity, her insides boiled hotter than Saugus' belly.

"…the people are like carrion worms, feeding on the filth," he finished. He may have slightly raised an eyebrow behind those shades after her drawn-out silence. He noticed her heart racing, temperature rising and muscles tensing of course, though there was no indication that she would strike out.

Instead, she bit her tongue, scooped up some radioactive bug remains and ordered him to carry them. A tiny revenge. Petty. Satisfying, though.

The next day, she left X6 back at the Institute and spent the following week in MacCready's easy company. All she had to do to get him to carry junk without complaining was tell him that the Institute paid double because they don't get sh…stuff like that down there. She thought he bought it because she always gave him his fair share of caps. Mac was shrewd, though. He knew the Institute commisary was pricey and limited because of the little curses she muttered under her breath sometimes.

After a while, a caravan hand mentioned that they were making the trip to the Capital Wasteland and Skyler got MacCready a job as a guard on the way there, so he could finally visit Duncan. 

"I hope the little guy is stronger now, RJ. Think you'll bring him back?"

"Maybe not this time. Doc wrote sayin' he's still got a way to go but he's out of the woods. 'Sides, I need to build us a place."

"Up at the Abernathy's?"

"After running with you? Nah. Too quiet. I was thinkin' Starlight, maybe?"

"That'll be a perfect home for a sniper and his son. Hey, I'll even help you build it!"

"Oh, great! I was hoping you'd say that. Never been a 'hammer and nails' kinda guy."

The two parted ways somewhat reluctantly. They always enjoyed each other's company, griping and all, as if they'd known each other for years. Mac clearly had something of a crush on Skyler, judging by the way he sometimes looked away a fraction too late, or the number of times he'd somehow overlooked a Nuka Cherry or pack of bubblegum so that she could claim the scav. They shared, of course. Sky would always pass him the fullest flip lighters and unopened cigs. There was a rhythm to their soldiering, too; a seamless flow of taking point and covering fire, running and ducking, picking the best route up to the perfect spot. 

There was only one guy on Skyler's mind though and she had something waiting for him in her pocket.

* * *  
The holotape's case was warm and smooth, in contrast to the big, calloused hand that received it.

"That waterpump spring a leak again, big guy?"

"Yeah, matter o' fact it did, at that. How'd you know?"

"Cold hands. That and the tidemark up your pants," she tittered. "Need a change? Found a laundered pair in a dry suitcase." Skyler pulled out a pair of smart-casual beige trousers that would never fit Sturges' frame. "Or this?" The ratty skirt was snatched aside with a lopsided grin as he swept her up, giggling. They disappeared into one of the few patched up rooms to have a working door and nobody saw them until the moon was high.

Jun fed the fire as Marcy attacked innocent tatoes nearby, throwing the slices into hot oil. The glow of the campfire and smell of roasting radstag drew the languid couple towards it. One of the new guys, Lance, passed them each a beer. Sturges sat down heavily on a red rocker chair. Skyler plonked herself on his lap, causing sudden squeaks from both chair and mechanic. She twisted round to grin and steal a kiss, his face blossoming into a lopsided grin in reply.

"Well, don't you two just sit there eating faces, the tatoes'll be cold." Marcy's tone came out harsher than she'd intended and she lowered her eyes. "Here. You both must be starved." One large plate piled high with roast meat, fried tatoes and fried razorgrain bread was held out to them. Skyler was the only one with a free hand as Sturges' beer-free paw was on her thigh, keeping her from slipping off.

He held her bottle as she fed them both, causing Marcy and Jun to blush and exchange tentative, soft glances, whilst Mama Murphy just clasped her hands and smiled. The few other settlers paid little attention, chatting and laughing. One of them even started singing quietly.

'This is homey,' thought Skyler to herself, now resting her back on Sturges' full belly, feeling the warm glow of relaxed satisfaction lull her half asleep. Not long after, they retreated to their cosy room and drifted off peacefully together.

* * *

It seemed to her that the sunbeam carried birdsong with it, gently encouraging her awake. She was still sated from last night's feast, so grabbed a stiff old towel and washcloth to head down to the river. Sturges' clothes weren't there. He was probably up already, tools in hand. Sure enough, the rhythmic percussion of hammer and nail was heard nearby. She smiled, decided to bathe just close enough to the noise to distract him a little, maybe entice him to a light breakfast.

If he saw her, he gave no sign. She decided to give up on that indulgence and dressed quickly, picking a fresh mutfruit to eat on the way. She threw the old towel to dry over the rickety picket fence and sauntered up behind him. 

He put the hammer down onto the workbench with a little too much force and suddenly Skyler knew that something was wrong.

"Mornin', Teddybear," she said in a low voice. Nothing. Not a thing. "I said 'mornin', big guy." This, he half turned to acknowledge. 

"I'm busy," he shot back.

"Sturges, I just…"

"Said I'm _busy_ , woman."

This riled her up. She hated being called 'woman'. It felt dismissive and belittling. Fine then, she decided, if he was in that sort of mood, let him stew. Might be that he was distracted enough to hit a thumb and that would soon stop him being surly. He might spark off but a quick vent was usually better than a slow burn. She turned and strode away.

Skyler busied herself by organising a build. One settler had brought a cartload of unused bricks so she began to create a new house, similar to the blasted old Sanctuary squats. This kept her busy for a day and a half, waiting for the stubborn mechanic to come and apologise. He didn't. Skyler couldn't leave it any longer and found him right at the far end of the settlement, tinkering with the huge four-pronged generator.

"Got a Stingwing in your suit? What's up, Sturges?"

"Not now. 'M busy."

"Yes, now! What the frag is going on? It's like I went to bed with one Sturges and woke up with another!"

"Hit the nail on the head, darlin'."

"What do you….oh. The 'tape? You?"

Sturges wasn't looking at her. In a low voice, he growled, "Did you know?"

"No. Show me!"

He threw the tape at her carelessly and hard, so it glanced off her brow. She took a deep breath, feeling the bruise unfold beneath her skin and then stooped to pick it up. Loading the holotape into Nate's Pipboy and clunking it shut, the sounds were like shotguns and artillery fire, her quickened breaths like a whirling radstorm. No other sounds could compete.

The green text flashed up and scrolled past, so much information, too much to take in.

"Five. Nine. Seven." Sturges pronounced, his laid back accent tersely underlining each number. 

Skyler scrolled down to entry 597: 

[ T3-D1 ▪▪▪ subject extracted from RR {ac} near the Warwick site. Theodore Earnest Sturges. Young, strong male, aptitude for engineering and mechanics, excellent baseline imprint though colloquial language not fully corrected. ///*subject theft on [REDACTED]]

Skyler's eyes shone, on the brink of tears. When words came, they were whispered, as delicate as the voice of the lake surrounding them.

"It doesn't matter."

The generator buzzed and crackled in that one breath.

"Doesn't matter? _Doesn't freakin' matter?!_ " he rumbled. The storm of his voice grew louder as he jabbed his finger into the base of his skull. "There a teeny bit o' techno-junk in my head, tellin' me I'm someone I'm not? Some guy who lived in a junkyard an' fixed up ol' powersuits 'cause he never could get a one o' them auto-mo-biles to roll. Guy who just wanted to hang with his buds and tinker all day, jive all damn night? This topcat," he stabbed a finger into his chest and bared his teeth, "…who used his blood, sweat 'n' tears to make an island o' cool in a world of…" he huffed, unable to complete the phrase, "…then one day, went out on a salvage run an' came back feelin' like he'd lost somethin'?"

Sturges was glaring now, angrier than she'd ever seen him. It scared her.

He stepped up close, looming over her so that he could finish saying his piece in a disturbingly low tone.

"He'd lost somethin' alright. Theodore 'Topcat' Sturges lost his fuckin' life. I can't…we're done here."

He threw something heavy into the scrubby grass at her feet. When she looked down, it was the wrench. The good one with the bit of blue paint on. The first tool she'd ever gifted him.

_It was my responsibility. No, I'd had nothing to do with the abduction of the original Sturges but by accepting the role as Director, I had unwittingly put myself on the prow of a titanic, unavoidably the first in line to feel the pummeling of the perfect storm that Shaun's Institute had left behind._

_I remember falling to my knees, shaking violently, the shock of his revelation, the weight of responsibility finally hitting me. He'd left me. I knew, too, that I'd never get my shaken Teddy back. It was time to get as far away from Sanctuary as I could._


	6. Misplaced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skyler explores far shores in search of a missing person but the experience leaves a deep impression.

_Nick often reminds me that a detective's life isn't an easy one. I often reply that he should try being a Major and a Director at the same time. He then chuckles and raises his glass to me, politely declining. If ever I doubt myself, Valentine reminds me that people's faith in me isn't misplaced and that I fill my father's shoes. "Nate woulda been proud," he proclaims, his softer hand on my shoulder._

_Maybe I should have different hats. Well, I do have a new one actually and Mac is a little jealous. Alright, alot jealous. Tricorns really don't suit him but he won't listen. Neither did Kasumi's father, though that actually saved the whole island of Far Harbor. Well, I did need to get away…_

The Nakanos were good folk, the kind of people I'd sworn to help. Their daughter had run away to a Synth colony believing that she was one and so Nick and I found ourselves on a boat heading north. The ride was exhilerating but Nick huddled in the cabin, pulling the collar of his trenchcoat high and cupping a cigarette as if he needed its meagre warmth. I have a feeling he was being plagued by a memory of seasickness.

The motor kicked down a notch and the autohelm guided the boat to sidle up to the dock, perfectly. Mist swirled around strange lamps and two figures strode down to meet the newcomers. 

Those first few days on the fog-enshrouded isle were both terrible and beautiful. Plantlife here seemed to be more plentiful and varied, as was the local fauna. There were worse things than Deathclaws in the deep fog. Skyler was enchanted by the views; mountainous vistas reflected in calm waters, tinged with the pinks and greens of a quiet dawn that hinted at roaring storms to come.

It paid to be a strong swimmer here, where rocks scattered the water's surface buckshot style and the edge of the land was intricately eroded, frilly as a doile. Nick swam effortlessly without complaint though he did graciously accept a few drops from the odd oilcan scavenged along the way.

The people of Far Harbor had been reduced to squatting on their own doorstep, blaming that death-cult 'The Children of Atom' for the increase in the madness-inducing radioactive fog that prowled the island. Then there were the Synths of Acadia, to whom young Kasumi had fled. Refugees from the Commonwealth, many had refused the Railroad's mindwipe or chosen to keep running until they'd washed up on these northern shores, desperately clinging to the shreds of their souls, memories in tatters.

* * *  
Skyler stood bolt upright, facing the metallic porcupine version of Valentine and looking him directly in his illuminated eyes.

"You chose to forget! That's deliberately covering up a crime. It's a good job Nick isn't here. He'd be disgusted."

DiMA almost looked heartbroken, though his manufactured face wasn't equipped for such subtleties."You're right," he conceded in his soft, slightly-effeminate voice. "It was wrong of me to hide this. If the people of Far Harbor find out, Acadia will suffer. I alone bear responsibility. I will do all in my power to make amends."

"There is no _'making amends'_ for taking a life, DiMA. I know you thought you were doing the right thing…" Skyler sighed. "Damn. You're too damn human."

DiMA quickly drew in air. "Really? I'd be flattered if it weren't double-edged compliment. 'To err is human' but at such cost?"

"Wasn't Synths who nuked the world now, was it?"

"No. No it was not. So we all reap the consequences of our actions. What consequence awaits for my mistake? Do Minutemen imprison or execute?"

"I'm going to be straight with you, DiMA. I'm with the Institute."

"Ah. So that's that, then. Spare them, I shall go willingly. Only fitting that I should lose myself, torn methodically asunder."

Skyler looked horrified. "Good gourd, Jack, not if I have anything to do with it!"

Secrets. The only chance for peace between humans and synths were secrets; DiMA had revealed his and the replacement of his victim took the news with great dignity. Captain Avery agreed that secrets were the sacrifice they both had to keep for the sake of peace.

That just left the irradiated madmen in the old submarine base. 

* * *  
MacCready rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he walked across Red Rocket's yard and pumped out a bucket of cold water. He reluctantly dipped a clean but ragged cloth in, wiped it once across a bar of soap and scrubbed at his bare chest. A week of grime vanished, revealing just how pale he really was. He quickly dried off with a pristine white towel, its bleached brilliance decidedly out of place away from the well of nesting scientists it had been drawn from.

He looked around briefly, scanning the horizon, before removing his cap and holding it between his knees so that he could dunk his soft, brown, bushy hair into the bucket. He couldn't help but make a sound of shivery disgust.

"Bathtime _already_ Mac?" came a sudden voice. The sound startled him, making him straighten up so suddenly that his sodden hair whipped up and sprayed Skyler in a shower of soapy water.

"Sh…Sugarbomb! You made me freak, there! Did you zap in again? Can't smell ozone over the strong smell o' _clean_ here."

" 'Sugarbomb'? Seriously? No, I walked. Just came up over the crest and through the hedge-gap. Should probably block that, huh?" Skyler winked, amused at the sight of her best friend, pale and slim with hair sticking up like a cartoon explosion. "Want some warm in that? Heck, who takes a cold wash when they've got a working hotplate? Here…"

Skyler emptied the bucket whilst Mac wriggled into a fresh t-shirt. Before long, he'd had a warm rinse and sat with a hot cup of Boston style coffee.

"I could get used to these little luxuries," came his lilting response.  
" You've earned them, Mac. Many times over." Skyler reached into a pocket and handed him a pack of cigarettes and some gum.

"Thanks. Hey, how was Far Harbor?"

"A sniper's paradise. Also, wet, foggy, radioactive and full of interesting new critters to fend off. Great swimming, though."

"Ehh, not my kinda paradise then. More like H-two-oh-hell."

"Cap in the jar, soldier."

"That ain't swearing, is it?"

"Depends. I'll let you off this time." They laughed a little together.

"No, really. What was it like? You look terrible."

Skyler had a lighthearted, sarcastic beratement lined up but from the look on his face, he really was concerned. She sighed. "Let me make us another drink. You get mess duty, somethin' filling. I'll tell you all about it over breakfast.

Outside, under the garage canopy, they sat by a brazier and ate warm mirelurk omelette with Cram. Mac said nothing but waited for Skyler to speak.

"It was beautiful, Mac. Hauntingly so. They have trees there, still tall and green, mountains and lakes and long, wide beaches. It must have been wonderful, back before… There are settlers there. Good people. They have the Minutemen's friendship, if ever they need us. I doubt they will. Tough bunch, up north. Damn stubborn, too. Then there's Acadia. It's a synth refuge, away from those in the Institute who still don't understand. There's few I'll tell, for now at least.

Then…." Skyler's gaze settled on the flames in the brazier. "There used to be a Children of Atom settlement. There's shrines all over the island. They thought the fog was alive. Me…" she visibly shivered, despite the fire and warm food. "I think it's haunted. I saw…well, don't really know what I saw. I felt something though, in that fog. The Children worshipped it, crazy death-seekers that they are. Were."

Mac knew her well enough to see the signs, hear the words she wasn't saying. "Sky, what did you do?"

"I slaughtered them. All of them. Set the sub to fire its nuke and blew the side off the fuckin' mountain. They'd have slaughtered the Harbormen."

"Fu..forget them. The Children of Assdom are crazy, raddled sickos. They're dangerous. What's the problem?"

"The problem is, Mac, that they're still human. Yes, most of them are several clicks off the geiger scale but some…some were in a worse place before, trying to do better."

MacCready put down his plate and put a hand on her shoulder. "You can't save everyone, Sky. You always try to, though, and that right there is what makes you a good leader."

"I'd hoped I could save Ware. He was a nice guy. He coulda been more."

"Get close to the enemy and you risk getting to know them. You still have to pull the trigger. Sometimes people make bad choices but can't face change again."

"I know. Leaders have to make hard decisions and all that."

They sat together in silence for a while, until Mac got up to fiddle with the radio. He tuned past a faint channel that made Skyler stop him. She found the frequency on her Pip-Boy, stronger now and audible.

Chirpy music and the words Nuka World made Skyler's face light up. "Hey Mac, Nate ever tell you about that amusement park?"

"Yeah, he called me Cappy for a whole week. Why?"

"Fancy a vacation?


End file.
